


I'll Be Home for Christmas

by itsreallylaterightnow



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Kidnapped Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Would it be a gift for blond without whump?, no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28278873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsreallylaterightnow/pseuds/itsreallylaterightnow
Summary: Peter felt strange… that was the only way he could describe waking up. Everything in his body was heavy as his eyelids slowly worked to open.  Peter grunted in annoyance. He always hated being confused and tired. It reminded him so much of waking up from the countless amount of surgeries he’d had. He remembers tensing all of his body, trying his best to figure out exactly which part of his body was the repaired part.But this time it wasn’t one part of his body. It was all heavy. Every single limb felt as though it weighed a ton. With a grunt of effort, Peter managed to peel back his eyelids. He wanted so desperately to be warm. It was so cold – he was so tired of being cold.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 35
Kudos: 155
Collections: Irondad and Spiderson Secret Santa 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blondsak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondsak/gifts).



> BLOND!!! Can you believe I got you for BOTH exchanges??? Its almost like we have the same tastes in fics!! Haha! Well, I have been so overjoyed to write you TWO whole fics! What an honor! Anywho, please enjoy this! I was planning on writing a long one shot but... I got Covid and I have no energy. So please enjoy part one and know part two will be up AS SOON as possible!!

Peter tucked himself into the corner of the cell, doing his best to stop from shivering. Despite the jacket he pulled tightly around his body, the window in his cell defeated any hopes he had of getting warm. Tonight was the worst, as snow filtered in through the tiny, barred window. Peter tried to fold into himself, but the stones walls and floor did nothing but to provide him with more chills.

Peter’s bones ached. By his best guesses he’d been stuck in this tiny cell for a little over a week now. He figured he was somewhere in the northeast, but he couldn’t know for sure. When the Hydra agents grabbed him, he’d been on his way to Mr. Stark’s for a Christmas celebration. An explosion and car crash later, Peter woke up in the tiny cell. Someone had put him in grey sweatpants and a long-sleeve with a sweatshirt on top. He was given water and a few slices of bread each day, and after that – left completely alone.

Peter tried to think about how the world would be celebrating Christmas soon. He hummed his favorite songs to himself until his teeth began to chatter so much that he stopped. Peter’s mind drifted to Aunt May and Mr. Stark. He wondered what their Christmas looked like right now.

He never felt more guilt than when he made Aunt May worry. She’d been through enough in her life, that Peter couldn’t help but the feel like a complete failure anytime he made her life more stressful than it already was. And thinking about Mr. Stark made Peter’s anxiety skyrocket. The man’s heart wasn’t exactly in great condition, and peter knew he would have only slept during the times Pepper and Rhodey managed to tie him to the bed for a couple of hours.

All in all, Peter was a disaster. The cell door had no handle on the inside, and it was most certainly made out of vibranium, and even if Peter could break the stone, the cold had effectively put a stop to any hopes he had at escaping. He could barely manage to do anything more than take a few steps at a time before exhaustion had him collapsing in the corner, shaking as he tried to stay warm.

 _Zero out of ten would recommend. I want a refund._ Peter thought to himself.

Of all the terrible Christmas’ he’d had, he figured this one might take the cake on the absolute worst Christmas ever… and quite possibly his last.

He’d tried not to think about it, but he was beginning to believe that getting out of this situation was moving from, “less likely” to “it would be an absolute Christmas miracle”…and he didn’t even believe in miracles.

His fingers were starting to turn a startling shade of blue, and his breaths and heartrate were much too fast for his liking. Peter could feel his body begin to give up on shaking as he found he didn’t have the energy to hold his head upright anymore. With a shaking sigh, he let it rest on the stone wall.

Peter blinked, his eyelids beginning to weigh him down. He wondered if he’d been left here…maybe the Hydra agents just trapped him in here to let him freeze to death. Maybe they’d forgotten about him altogether.

He didn’t know.

He didn’t…

He d…

* * *

Peter felt strange… that was the only way he could describe waking up. Everything in his body was heavy as his eyelids slowly worked to open. Peter grunted in annoyance. He always hated being confused and tired. It reminded him so much of waking up from the countless amount of surgeries he’d had. He remembers tensing all of his body, trying his best to figure out exactly which part of his body was the repaired part.

But this time it wasn’t one part of his body. It was all heavy. Every single limb felt as though it weighed a ton. With a grunt of effort, Peter managed to peel back his eyelids. He wanted so desperately to be warm. It was so cold – he was so tired of being cold.

He blinked once more, a full body chill running through him as he looked around. He was in what looked to be an abandoned subway station. “I’m so tired of being taken places while I’m unconscious.” He grumbled, as he went to force himself to sit up.

It was in that moment that Peter noticed something strange about his left hand. He looked down, where he was laying awkwardly against the wall and his heart stopped.

He was in a large, dark vest.

And his left thumb was taped to a red button. A detonator. Peter had dealt enough terrorists to know that the vest was a wired mess of C-4.

He let out a shaking breath as he used his right hand to sit up, leaning against the wall. Every movement was perfectly calculated. He began to hold his thumb down, not trusting the tape enough to let his finger rest on its own.

“Shit – shit – shit- shit…” Peter looked around, his eyes finding the exit of the old station to his right. Peter slowly pulled himself up to his feet. The station must have been a resting place for a homeless network at some point, because blankets and makeshift beds surrounded him.

Knowing he couldn’t go out into the streets of New York in a bomber vest without a very terrible ending, he grabbed a blanket, and wrapped himself tightly in it. He was actually quite thankful for the warmth it provided.

“Okay, a plan – a plan – a plan. Come on, Peter… think.” He was just calculating how he would manage to get a call in to Mr. Stark when he heard a beep. His heart leapt in his chest, and he was no longer cold… in fact, he was definitely sweating now. On the detonator was a tiny screen, showing 60 minutes, and the numbers were slowly counting down.

New plan of action, get the hell out of dodge.

Peter began to move toward the exit of the station, climbing the stairs as quickly as he could. Peter paused when he made it to the top of the grimy concrete steps. There was fresh snow falling from the sky, and a bodega across the street had a neon sign lit up, saying: “Merry Christmas”.

Of course shit like this would happen to him on Christmas day. He’d found Christmas to be pretty shit from a young age. The holidays were something that had quickly shifted into a painful time for Peter Parker. He used to love Christmas. His earliest memories surrounding the holiday were nothing but happy. His mom and dad always committed to making the day wonderful. A day filled with gifts and food and May and Ben would always come over for movies and dinner.

Peter was too young to fully comprehend his parent’s death. One day he was going home to his mom and dad, and the next, he was being taken by a patrol car to May and Ben’s. He remembers Uncle Ben picking him up, holding him tightly to his body.

“It’s all going to be okay, Petey.” He remembers his Uncle’s warm words as he was carted inside the house.

From then on, Christmas changed. Ben worked for the fire department, and May was in nursing school, working for a diner during her free time. They didn’t have much money to buy the kinds of gifts that his parents used to, but what they lacked in material, they made up for in adventure. They spent the day walking through Central Park. When they got too cold, they would find the nearest café and grab a hot chocolate before heading out to the skating rink. May and Peter would race around the rink, laughing together as Ben gripped tightly to the rail, doing his best not to topple over.

They had year after year of wonderful holidays together.

Then it all turned blue.

Peter remembers the first Christmas without Ben vividly. He remembers trying to put up the Christmas tree with May, but the second they’d seen the fire station ornament they’d both had to quit. May had apologized to Peter before returning to her room. Peter just sat on the couch, staring at the tree, seeing it drip with blood. Every noise a gunshot, every bit of air flowing from the AC one of Ben’s labored breaths.

Since then, the holidays had taken on a quiet pain. They served as more of a reminder for what he’d lost than a time to be thankful. Aunt May had done her best, and Peter only grew in appreciation for his aunt, but it wasn’t the same.

For the longest time, holidays had been a weight rather than an exciting time.

He’d hoped this year would be different. That maybe since coming home from Titan, and the invites to celebrate with Mr. Stark and the fact that he had Michelle now would all culminate to make this one of the best Christmas’ of his life. He’d spoke too soon.

No, this Christmas was going to bomb… literally.

Peter began to make quick work of the streets, keeping his head down and trying not to draw any attention to himself. His best hope was to get to a large block of construction near Central Park. The block was in the middle of being rebuilt, and Peter figured if he could make it under the building, the damage would be minimal. He knew he didn’t have time to get out of the city, but he could at least make it to the least populated area.

Peter thanked his knowledge of New York, making quick work of side alleys as he slipped under the construction tape with ease. His palms were damp with sweat as he leaned against a concrete pillar. His thumb that rested on the button was beginning to shake with exhaustion. Peter knew it was only a matter of time before the cramps set in.

He wished he had he phone, he would give anything to talk to May and Tony one last time. The luxury of saying goodbye wasn’t one often granted to heroes.

Peter had just consigned himself to letting go of the button when he jerked his head up to a familiar sound. The whine of repulsors. Peter could pinpoint the Iron Man suit any second of any day.

It took seconds for him to hear the sound of the alloy on concrete as the suit landed just outside his line of sight.

“Peter?” A tentative voice cried, and Peter’s already weak knees threatened to give once more.

“Mr. Stark?” He sobbed out, the strain of the past… well however long since he’d been taken, finally getting to him. Peter heard the sound of the suit deploying and then Mr. Stark was running, and he slid into Peter’s line of sight.

Peter forced his free hand out of the blanket, his entire body shuddering with fear and cold. “Stop, stop! You can’t come any closer – y-you have to get out of here!” Peter cried. Though he was begging for the man to leave, all he wanted was for Mr. Stark to stay. To hold him. To fix every single problem and make it all okay again.

“What’s going on, bud?” Mr. Stark asked, his voice wary as he held out a calloused hand.

Peter just shook his head, unable to force out the words. Unable to say everything he was feeling. So instead, he just let his free hand pull off the blanket.

The sight before Mr. Stark must have sucked all of his words away, because the two just stood, staring at one another in silence. Until Mr. Stark gave a slight nod of reassurance.

“Alright, buddy. Let’s get this figured out.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter let his head drop back as he stared at Mr. Stark, his teeth chattering from the cold and pain. “Yeah, it’s a merry-fucking-Christmas, Charlie Brown.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends :) I finally sat down and had the energy to finish this fit up! Blond, I do hope you enjoy! This fic has felt somewhat like a fevered dream (maybe because I've been sick for writing the majority of it, lol) but I hope you all enjoy. the final part of it! 
> 
> Blond, I have loved being able to write these works for you! Thank you for being the absolute best!

Now that Tony was with him, Peter found himself about ten times more terrified than he was before. It was like whenever he was a little upset about something, but he’d pushed aside his emotions, but then May would ask if he was alright and the floodgates would open. He didn’t have to be the adult anymore, so his mind let go of trying to be responsible.

“Hey, buddy, I need you to calm down alright?” Tony said, his voice radiating all the calm that Peter couldn’t let himself feel.

“Y-you need to leave. Tony – Mr. Stark, you have to leave! We don’t know how long this thing is going to stay together. Y-you have Morgan, and Pepper and I need you to leave, now!” Peter couldn’t wrap his head around anything other than the fact that he needed Mr. Stark to be safe, and not here.

“Hey, I am _not_ leaving you, alright? I will not leave you here.” Peter wa about to protest when Mr. Stark held up a hand. “But, I will put the suit on, alright? And I’ll be safe, and fine. You just breath and take a moment, okay?” Peter gave a slight nod in Mr. Stark’s direction.

The older man called the suit to him, and he was encased in the red and gold metal. Peter let out a breath of relief. Mr. Stark would be safe now…maybe – maybe he would even be able to get Peter out.

Just as Peter allowed himself to grasp on to a small strand of hope, the vest around his chest tightened up a bit and he jerked his head down to see a number on a screen he hadn’t noticed before.

The screen was counting down twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes until it exploded.

Twenty minutes until Peter and this entire block of construction were destroyed completely.

Well, twenty minutes if Peter didn’t die of a heart attack before the clock ran out.

He didn’t notice Mr. Stark speaking to him until the man grabbed his shoulders and shook him roughly.

“PETER!” The terror in Tony’s voice caught his attention, and he let Mr. Stark guide him to the ground, leaning him up against a pole as his legs refused to hold him any longer. “I need you to calm down, alright? Listen to me,” Tony began to pull at the panel on the front of the vest, revealing the wires below. “I graduated MIT at fifteen, and I have three PhD’s – I know, I know, Bruce has seven and you’d probably prefer if he was here, but he turns green when he gets stressed so I’m not sure he would be the best choice.” Peter let out a snort as he let his head fall backwards against the pole. “If I can’t figure this out, I don’t think anyone can. So I need you to stay calm and let me work.”

Peter gave Mr. Stark a nod. It wasn’t too often that the man got completely serious, but this was one of those times. And, he was right. Tony Stark was a prodigy, a genius. He would do everything he could to get the bomb off of Peter.

Time ticked by as Mr. Stark worked. Peter found the best way to keep himself from absolutely flipping his shit was to not look at Mr. Stark. He either stared at the ceiling or had his eyes squeezed together as tightly as he could manage.

It wasn’t until Mr. Stark cursed and stood, before turning away from Peter and running his hands across his head that Peter jumped up and looked down at the clock, feeling panic well inside him at the six minutes ticking away on the screen.

The Iron Man suit remained turned around as Peter let the pole behind him carry all of his weight.

“FRIDAY, ensure that the three blocks around us have been evacuated. Contact local police and explain what is going on.”

Peter stared at the floor as the suit turned back to face him. He was going to die here. He knew Mr. Stark saw it too. Tony just turned back to him. When the suit was almost to Peter, he held out his hand, stopping Mr. Stark.

“You need to leave.” Peter stated, this time not leaving room for argument.

“Not going to happen.” Mr. Stark responded, but Peter wasn’t going to recede again.

“You have to! I won’t let you die for me! You have a family, they need you!” Peter demanded.

“And you have a family that needs you!” Mr. Stark yelled again.

“No, I have a family that loves me. They will all be just fine without me. May is stronger than anyone I know, and she has Happy. Michelle and Ned have each other. They don’t need me. But Morgan,” Peter’s voice broke. “Morgan deserves to grow up with her father. I didn’t get that chance, and I will not let you die knowing what that would mean for your daughter.”

“Well, that’s a very kind sentiment, but you’re wrong. I need you. New York needs you. Every person that has ever heard of what Spider-Man does – all the people you inspire to do good – they need you. So, I won’t let you die here. Not if I can help it.”

Tony stood in front of Peter, his fingers flying as he talked to FRIDAY about what the correct moves were.

Peter remained quiet until the clock hit one minute. “Mr. Stark,” His voice as a wisper this time. The older man just continued to work until Peter’s free, shaking hand rested on top of the cold fingers of the Iron Man suit. “Stop.”

The suit stilled.

“Alright, plan ‘D’, I’m going to yank this thing off, and fly the two of us as far as I can before it goes off.”

“Mr. Stark! That’s the worst plan I’ve ever heard!”

“Well, that says a lot coming from a boy who only ever uses plans he’s seen play out in old Star Wars movies.” Mr. Stark jabbed, effectively drawing out a stressed laugh from Peter. “Alright, count of three.” Peter felt as though he were outside of himself, watching Mr. Stark as he prepped himself to yank the vest off.

“One.” Mr. Stark’s voice shook as the grip of the suit wrapped around the vest. “Two.”

“I love you Mr. Stark.” Peter said, both of them ignoring the tears that fell down his face.

“I love you too, kid. Merry Christmas.” Peter could hear Mr. Stark take in a shuddering breath.

“One.”

With a brutal yank, Tony ripped the vest from Peter, and immediately latched his arms around the kid’s waist, before flying straight up into the construction. Mr. Stark had the suit wrapped as tightly around Peter’s body as he could as the suit rammed through concrete and rebars.

The explosion whited out everything that Peter knew. The heat and force of it took all that Peter knew and swept it away, replacing it with darkness.

* * *

“Peter?” That was Mr. Stark. He knew that voice. “Peter? Come on, Peter – please don’t do this to me.” Something hard rubbed Peter’s sternum, and it hurt. Peter let out a grunt and the hand stilled. “Okay, hey – hey – hey, Peter? You with me?”

Peter just managed another grunt, not having the energy to do anything but that. He felt as though he’d been shoved under water. Every sound was muffled. He felt liquid coming from his ears, dripping down his chin.

“FRI, how far is medical?”

“Four minutes boss.”

“Okay, good. Good. We can make it that long.” Then hands were running across Peter’s face. “You have to open those peepers now, or I’ll tell May that you weren’t listening again.”

From sheer force of will – or fear of May’s wrath – Peter managed to open his eyes. Mr. Stark was knelt over him, the man’s head blocking out the sun. A full body chill ran through Peter and he cried out at the pain that it elicited. He couldn’t pinpoint what hurt exactly, he just knew it did. He knew he was in pain. And he was so cold, and nothing was making sense.

“I need you to calm down. Your leg is broken, and you’ve got four broken ribs on your left side, a massive concussion, and ruptured eardrums, but you’re going to be just fine. Medical is about two minutes out, and they’ve got the good drugs, and May and your girlfriend are already on their way to the tower, so you just have to stay awake for me, alright?”

Peter only followed about half of what Mr. Stark was saying as he looked around wildly. His eyes landed on an apartment building to their left, and he saw a Christmas tree lit up inside it.

“Merry Christm’s, Mr. Stark.” Peter mumbled around numb lips. The man above him let out a humorless laugh.

“You know what kid, you aren’t strapped to a God-awful vest, and you’re not bleeding out on me… so by low – I mean _the_ lowest – of standards, I guess it is a merry Christmas.”

They were both silent for a moment as Peter just let himself dwell in the fact that he was alive – by some insane miracle.

“How about when we get back, we finally watch that Charlie Brown movie you’ve been asking me about?” 

Peter was surprised Mr. Stark remembered that. It was something Peter had mentioned when he was out of his mind with drugs after he’d been stabbed with a candy cane by some man out of his minds with drugs the day after Thanksgiving. Peter let his head drop back as he stared at Mr. Stark, his teeth chattering from the cold and pain. “Yeah, it’s a merry-fucking-Christmas, Charlie Brown.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed... thanks for reading! Merry Christmas to all! 
> 
> Come say hi over on Tumblr (@itsreallylaterightnow)


End file.
